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earl-of-221b · 6 months

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I can’t explain what blue eye samurai makes me feel…….its a typical revenge story, a man sets out on his hero’s journey to kill the four men who have wronged him. A lone ronin, wide brimmed hat and sword in hand, roaming Edo Japan on his vendetta. But he’s not a man. He’s a woman. And how has he been wronged? What’s she getting revenge on?

On the fact that she exists. She wants revenge on the four white men that could possibly have conceived her. Who got her Japanese mother pregnant with a blue-eyed child. And not just any blue-eyed child, but a girl child. How is she possibly supposed to live in the world like that? For the wrong of being conceived, for the wrong of being born, for the wrong of being birthed into a world that will never love or accept her, she will kill her father.

I don’t know what level of convoluted self hate that is. Is she a child of rape? Or a child of a whore? Halfway through I realise what she told herself at the start couldn’t possibly be true - it’s not really for her mother. Her mother wasn’t the root of her vendetta, she wasn’t really doing it for her. When she leaves that farm and leaves the chance to live a simple, legitimate life as a woman, she goes right back to hunting down the men. Those men personally wronged her.

And then there’s so much to be discussed surrounding the way she grew up, because as a boy child and a man she can afford so much more than life has dealt her. Her swordfather who took her in out of the love and care in his heart had no shame in teaching a mixed man his art. The face of a ‘demon’ is fine. But not the identity of a woman. Shh. Don’t say it. Don’t confess. He knows and doesn’t want to hear it.

And because she’s lived that way her entire life for safety and security, she’s so completely alienated from being a woman, perhaps she really is he. But not really by choice. Or is it? The thing she does best is the art of killing, the art of men. Gender is a prison and gender is a performance and she has to choose which to perform. The times cannot reconcile hatred and violence with a woman. So she lives as a man.

So she can get revenge on her father, for revenge on herself.

#blue eye samurai #everything about mizu is so deeply upsetting #like ok revenge!!#revenge of what - exactly?!#white men?#and/ or your white self?#born against your will?#and who and what shapes this will of yours except the society you were born in?#this is so deeply fucked in every way #but anyways #I love Mizu and I hope he kills his father dead. if only - if only that would satisfy her.#my posts

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tempo-takoyaki · 4 months

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Happy (belated) New Year 2024!

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #scumbag system #scum villain #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #myart #this took me longer than I expected... and I probably should have expected it given that dragon #I'm super proud of it though look at my dragon! it looks super cool! I want to draw more dragons!#overall I'm super satisfied with this it's a good way to start the new year #it seems I draw a lot of soft bingqiu but honestly I love them being soft #anyway happy new year 2024!

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learngita · 2 years

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#self-satisfied

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mirrorhouse · 7 months

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#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3edit #gamingedit #*#his self satisfied little chuckle after he says this makes the whole thing he's so pleased with himself

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comfortless · 1 month

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would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed

you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.

Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.

He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.

The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.

He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.

A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck

Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD

He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.

There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.

Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.

His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.

There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.

His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.

He’s fucking petrified.

His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.

She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.

He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.

His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.

Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.

That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.

His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.

He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.

Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.

He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.

Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.

When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.

She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.

Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.

She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”

All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.

“Nein… no…”

He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.

She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.

His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.

He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.

Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.

She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.

“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.

There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.

“Only you.”

“Gut… gut.”

There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.

Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.

When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.

There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.

Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?

#könig x reader #konig x reader #Kö saying ‘i love you’ way waaay too early is entirely self satisfying for me ^^#he would still want to buy things for her instead probably play the role of some rough tough alpha male #but secretly every time she’s snuggled up to him he’s in shambles trying to control his breathing and not propose on the spot

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diurnalvl · 1 month

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seven years ago, they used to be friends. almost.

1 / 2 / ?

#diurna draws #vox #alastor #staticradio #radiostatic #radiosilence #onewaybroadcast #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #gosh i love doing more complex shading to make fake screencaps it's so satisfying.#sorry for using my personal vox design this is purely self indulgent. hey maybe vox only starts wearing bowties after this #anyways part two is going to be uploaded in a bit my doves <3 #vox made his way through the trapdoor that's why he's initially on his knees #...not any other reason...#he's so danger unaware to alastor going haywire #thing is i feel that during their friendship vox was long used to alastor hurting other people in front of him that it just...#doesn't occur to him that alastor would've ever hurt him in that way.#shame #because it never occured to alastor that vox would cross that line and ruin their friendship.#alastor is somehow desperately angry and desperately sad #and angrier still that vox gets to make him feel that way.#suddenly #alastor feels a pearl of absolute hatred form inside of him #he's never felt so strongly about something in his entire afterlife #if only my shitty little aces could communicate and stop being insane for one second. sigh.

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yurislilygarden · 2 months

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ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1

ʚїɞ Alastor and Lucifer Morningstar

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.7k

ʚїɞ I planned for all hotel characters first but then I realized how much I'm thinking on each paragraph and its details that I decided to just do 2-3 charas per part😭

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch.

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

ALASTOR

Irritation with a hint of madness.

His first thoughts about the situation would be how ironic it is that he seeks entertainment for himself while his own person, no, character, was a source of entertainment for whatever was watching them from time to time. It was quite ironic how he said that his face was made for radio when the truth couldn't be further from that. He was literally created solely to be watched on that funny colored box by… whatever was watching him and the others.

He was irritated at not noticing that something was wrong immediately, now he thinks about how blind he was, how obvious everything was. The city is actually quiet, too quiet when the noise and demons aren't needed, when they're not meant to be heard. Nothing actually happened that one time when he was out for a fix of his coat, it just got magically fixed, he went and came back when someone else decided he was to do so. They didn’t have much actual free will when he thought about it and that's what he was mad about. He thought that his deal was a massive problem to him, oh how wrong he was because the problem was you.

He doesn't know how he or the others didn't notice the small, glowing butterfly flying above their heads from time to time. They couldn't be that blind, could they? The little crystal thing (could he break it?) must have done something to be unnoticed for so long. He wondered how long they were watched for, the little thing above their heads seemed to be speaking sometimes, seemingly knowing what would happen… at least he thought so, the words would cut out so often that he was left with a pure guess at one point.

He didn't want to accept that he wasn't real, that he was just a 2D character with the sole purpose of entertaining someone. He was meant to be the one entertained, not you. But he couldn't actually do anything, could he? For sure not until more of the people he knew were aware.

That's also something that he noticed. When it came to the hotel staff and guests, he seemed to be the only one who realized the situation at first. It took a few times of some events repeating before he noticed that someone else from the hotel was noticing the little crystal butterfly above their heads as well.

Alastor seemed to be the first, or one of the very first people who noticed that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if someone realized before him, and if they did then who, but he was somewhat glad that he could finally discuss the topic at least a little once the other hotel patrons found out about the truth. He isn't one to really open up in any way, but this was a matter where he had to communicate with the others.

You. He didn’t know what to think of you at first. He did see you in a more negative light at first, under many emotions hitting him at once which he hated but after he calmed down, he started thinking. At first, he was sure you were some sick person seeking entertainment from the suffering of others, and yeah he was doing pretty much the same, but were you really alike when he wasn’t even real and you were? He was pretty sure that he’s never gonna get used to saying that.

Over time, when he stopped overthinking (he’s gonna deny that he was doing that till the day of his 2nd death), he noticed a few changes. The less negative his posture and thoughts were about you, even if neutral, the more he was able to find out. Alastor was able to pick up more than a few words whenever you talked, he was able to hear you talking clearly enough to recognize a possible gender, and something he wasn’t sure that he wanted to think about, it was way easier to pick up your emotions in your words.

I feel like he would be more lenient towards you if it turned out you were a female (or identified as one), but that would be the mama’s boy inside of him talking. There wouldn’t be too many differences of course, but those who spent enough time around him would be able to tell there's a difference after finding out your gender if it turned out you weren’t a man (again, not too much but it IS noticeable).

He would go from lowkey hating you at first to being mostly neutral with a hint of positive light as you seemed to do nothing but watch, up until later on when everyone is self-aware as well and would talk about the whole thing. Only then would the feelings towards you, the little watcher, as he first called you, turn more positive.

LUCIFER

Massive inner conflict and a complete mix of emotions

He didn’t know what to think. It was hard to comprehend that he didn’t actually live for as long as he thought, that all the things that supposedly happened, in fact never were even close to happening, they were just… a scripted past.

Was all his suffering for nothing? Was it there just to entertain someone? Did those things who watched them enjoy seeing them sad and hurt? He was simply lost on what to think about the whole situation, it wasn't something that he could prepare himself for in any way beforehand.

He was disappointed in himself for not noticing immediately or at least faster that something was not right. He's the literal King of hell! Even if… only in a show apparently… but he still is. No one better say anything about that because he's already on the brink of a yet another breakdown. He cannot take much more.

Should he try doing something about this? Or should he stay quiet and go with the script as he's supposed to? He wasn’t sure about the answer himself and had no one to answer his questions. The thought that what he thought were eons of life was actually a lie was… a little terrifying. Who knows just how much can someone force them to do without caring for their opinions because they don’t know that he and the others are aware of everything now, how much can you cause without their consent? He wasn’t sure if you or anyone else knew about them being self-aware or not.

He would actually try to ignore the little butterfly whenever he would see it, but at the same time, many questions were swirling in his mind.

Why were you around? Did you like to see them suffering? Did you have any control over what you saw? Did you have some sort of control over them? Did you have plans regarding them? Did you-

Yeah, again, he has a lot of questions and absolutely zero answers.

His personal feelings about you were all around at first. Not sure whether he should hate, dislike, or be generally negative about you, be more neutral, or be on the more positive side, especially since you didn't seem to do anything but watch them. Like it's all that you could do when it comes to them, but he couldn't be 100% sure.

Similarly to Alastor, he would be one of the characters who noticed something wrong on the first watch of the show before becoming self-aware quite soon after that. I don't think he, nor Alastor, would notice the other knows too fast, since both try to act like nothing's wrong around others. He did not want to be just a 2D character, something to be watched on a screen. It was… humiliating, in his eyes. He could tell that Charlie and the others weren't aware of anything at first so he didn't speak about it until later on when he was sure that they came to their senses, as he would like to say.

He wondered how long were you actually there before he, or anyone else, started to see or notice you, especially since he could literally hear you. Both as the small insect and the occasional words he was able to pick up. And that's if he was to forget the butterfly was literally, softly fucking glowing. Yeah, they're all blind.

I think that if you’re on the younger side, (which technically is any age a human can be alive at compared to him lmao) he would be a little softer, especially if you're similar to his daughter in character. It would come from the paternal side of his, you would probably remind him of Charlie so much :(

He would be more on the negative side at first, as much as he wishes he didn't straight up assume how you were as a person, it took some time but he went into the more neutral zone before being positive about you after being able to hear more of you talking, as he was able to at least have more idea about your character and wasn't completely clueless like at the start.

Your nickname also got changed to something else, something cuter over time, as Alastor’s name for you, little watcher, was deemed not good enough by everyone (Lucifer's words)

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

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